Jusenkyo: the Other Cursed Springs
by W. Monroe
Summary: Notice from Communist Party of China officials in Beijing: lesser known cursed springs of Jusenkyo now officially open for tourism. Bring family and friends of all ages to this strange and wondrous place and see things never thought possible! But remember: absolutely no swimming allowed.


**Jusenkyo: the Other Cursed Springs**

The sky was clear and blue, with birds chirping as they launched from the trees into the great expanse above as, down below, the crowd hustled and bustled to and forth, talking amongst themselves as they waited fervently for their guide to do the rounds.

"Okay, folks," the man, an average looking fellow dressed in a beige tunic and pants with a star-marked cap on his head came to the front of the group, smiling as his thin eyebrows arched and his mouth set in a good-natured grin as he tucked his arms behind his back. "Welcome to Jusenkyo, home of China's famous cursed springs! I hope you all ready to be amazed as we wander around lesser known pools! One word of warning," he then gave a short nod to the mixture of his own people and foreigners standing before him, "do make sure you stay close, springs _very_ cursed, no going back once you fall in."

Everyone grew a little silent then, though one or two people somewhere behind the front row voiced their doubts regarding the whole experience.

Ignoring the doubters, he smiled and said happily, "Now, form two lines and follow me!"

The rabble slowly did as told while the guide led the way into the mess of springs before them, green grass surrounding pools of otherwise tranquil and normal-looking water. Of course, if what the man was saying was true they were anything but, yet none of the travelers could bring themselves to actually believe that what he was saying was anything more than fanciful imaginings or the work of the communist officials in Beijing attempting to drum up tourism to the area.

And then they came to the newest, most recent addition to the Jusenkyo tour, and they began to wonder if their tour guide hadn't simply escaped from an insane asylum at some point and led them on as a lark.

"Here is first of lesser known springs," he motioned with one hand as he looked back at the gathered crowd. "This here is Spring of Drowned Desk-" the crowd's collective face faulted at that, and some voiced objections before the guide gave a polite cough then carried on, "-yes. Very, very tragic story of desk that drown in spring four hundred years ago. Many questions surround tragic and terrible event, chief amongst them being; how?"

"That's a lie," one of the younger male tourists piped up. "You're just pulling our leg!"

The guide was about to say something, but stopped for a brief moment. After thinking, he sighed and nodded before saying, "Well, admittedly name a bit of misnomer…"

At that precise moment thousands of miles away to the west, a woman in her early thirties, her long blonde hair pinned back in a bun and wearing a white blouse with a conservative black skirt and slender stockinged legs pushed her glasses up and rubbed her eyes with a sigh.

"Gods, I shouldn't have said I'd handle this damn work on my day off," a yawn escaped her mouth just then, and after rubbing her eyes once again as she glanced out the window she reached for the cup of coffee nearby only to miss the handle and knock it over onto the desk sitting directly before her as a swear left her pretty pink lips.

The dark liquid crashed upon the desk, the cup rolling along until the handle bounced against the mahogany surface. For a moment she couldn't think straight and simply stared at the mess, then she got up from her little workstation in the corner of her apartment and hurried over for a towel to wipe the mess up, dodging quickly around her couch and end table that sat between her and her kitchen.

After she'd finished cleaning up, the woman took the towel and rag she'd used and threw them into the clothes hamper before another yawn escaped. With a sigh she wandered slowly back to the kitchen and poured herself another cup of coffee, groaning about various aches as she made for her workspace once more.

"Damn it all, I really don't need this sort of trouble," she squeezed the bridge of her nose with her free hand as she came out of the kitchen without looking where she was going. "If I ever think to agree to something stupid like this again, I wish I'd just—ah!" the air in her lungs shot out then as her knee crashed into the small table by the couch, her cup of coffee sailing clear of her hand and straight down onto the latter piece of furniture's wooden surface.

Then everything grew quiet.

The pain was now nothing more than a memory as the woman stared, her leg in her hands yet barely throbbing as she stared down at the rather young looking and very nude tiny Chinese female where a thrift store purchase once was, hands and feet planted firmly on the floor while her long black hair spilled out to either side of her in ribbons.

Not a word was said as both individuals looked at one another, one mind unable to process what had just taken place and the other unable to express her joy at finally being free once more of her curse, if only for a little while…

"It actually end table," the guide, thousands of miles back east declared matter-of-factly, much to the consternation of all those before him. "Just think, this not even strangest of springs on tour, too!

"I swear," one of the young men, an American from his voice and a bottle blond by his hair said under his breath to his wife. "This has gotta be the stupidest-"

Before he could finish, they were ushered along to the next spring on the tour.

"Now everyone," the guide spoke gravely as they came upon the next pool of water, the eyes of all present save the guide's growing wider at the many signs in Mandarin, Cantonese, Mongolian, Russian and English — hilariously so, in the case of the latter — warning against coming into contact with the spring water. "I bring you to next spring on guided tour, Spring of Drowned 1910s Wisconsinite."

The tourists all exchanged glances, murmurs softly issuing forth amongst their group as they questioned the sanity of this man once again. Yet there were some amongst them who'd grown tired of this seeming farce, and crept to the side to get a closer peek at the spring for themselves.

"Yes, spring considered so dangerous that officials, not just in Beijing but entire _world_ made attempts to be rid of it, to no avail," he shook his head sadly. "Tale of spring extremely tragic story, but go on too long and already know ending so no very interesting," he brightened up then as he said, "song catchy, though-"

A splash rang out, and the guide's face grew visibly pale before he reached into his tunic and pulled forth his Type-77 pistol, then whipped around just as the words, "Rose! Rose! You swore you'd never let go, damn it all!" rang out in English before they were followed by the ringing of an entire two magazine's worth of rounds being emptied, the guide's aim true as he took the person out without even a moment's hesitation.

When the smoke cleared and he was sure his duty was done the guide sighed, replaced his pistol then turned back around to explain to the shocked and quite frightened tour group, "My sincere apologies, it decided by all countries in agreement with Beijing party officials that, in best interest of our — I mean, victim's — sanity, we must act with haste and put them out of misery as soon as possible."

Nobody seemed ready to say anything as the fact that the guide was not, in fact, pulling their leg was now all too apparent as their eyes and the fellow lady friends (one of which was altogether too conveniently named Rose, though she didn't mention this to anyone that didn't already know, nor did anyone volunteer as she wobbled along, her skin now white as chalk) of the victim could all attest. The guide took a much more cheery tone then as he clapped his hands and announced, "Now hurry along and watch step, we have one more spring on tour today!"

As everyone shuffled nervously onward, he brought them to the last and final spring, the thing an unassuming pool that sat sandwiched between two boulders while a thick wall of bamboo sat on the opposite side of the pool from the group.

"Here we have last and strangest spring of all on tour today," the guide announced with some fanfare, "this here Spring of Drowned Quantumly Entangled Particle, because why not?" as everyone's face contorted into a show of pure and utter dumbfounded silence, the guide continued his speech. "Yes, spring cause many scientists in China to declare truly best evidence for existence of god or gods with merciless sense of humor."

"Y-you don't mean-" one of the tourists stammered quietly, comprehension — despite their best attempt to halt it — dawning on their face.

Completely ignoring — or possibly unaware of — the tourist's unfinished question, the guide went on to explain, "Yes, very tragic story of quantumly entangled particle that may have drowned in spring or not very long time ago or perhaps not so long, depending on whether it observed at time. Whoever fall into spring take form of particle entangled with other particle somewhere else in universe until observed, but no way know where or what so turning back… well…"

As the truth of what the guide spoke sank in, hundreds if not thousands of miles away at that very moment, across the Sea of Japan sometimes called the East Sea and at others the Korean East Sea, over and along the island of Japan under a thickening blanket of gray clouds that threatened to, at any moment, open up and unleash their wet wrath upon those below, there sat the impressive though weathered home belonging to the Tendou household, a moment of quiet gathered about the usually loud and raucous residence.

"Hold your horses, Ranma," the young short-haired girl sighed as her sock-clad feet padded along the wooden hall, a kettle steaming in her hand as she came upon the little redhead sitting on the deck while three men sat behind her inside the family room, two prostrate before the smallest of them. "You know, if you didn't constantly get into it with Happosai, these things wouldn't keep happening…"

"What would ya want me to do, huh, Akane?" Ranma, her high pitched voice revealing barely restrained frustration with the old man who sat rubbing his roughed up scalp nearby, growled. "The old pervert was gonna try sneaking off with more panties again! And it wasn't like they," she indicated the two older men who were then groveling at their master's feet at that precise moment to sooth his wrath, "would be of any help."

Akane really didn't want to admit it, but Ranma was right; their fathers really _were_ less than useless where Happosai was concerned. "Okay, I get it…" with a sigh she came up to the redhead's side and said, "Now stay still, we aren't exactly made of hot water, y'know."

"Yeah, yeah," Ranma griped. "Just get on with it."

Just as the water left the kettle's spout and poured into the air above Ranma, the space between the object and her head suddenly became filled by a rather attractive, buxom and very, very nude dark-haired woman, the two females collapsing onto both the deck and the yard in a strangely angled heap while all four onlookers goggled in amazement.

Especially the men, given the angle of the newest arrival and despite the feeble restraint of the long maned and mustachioed Tendou Soun's last shred of chivalry.

"W-what happened?" Ranma practically wheezed, barely able to breath given the weight on her back and the fact her face was driven into the ground at a bad angle while two soft cushions worked to suffocate her from either side. "S-somebody… help…"

Akane sat there, anger slowly plastering itself upon her features as she raised her clenched fist and yelled, "Here, let me just _help you then!_ " and delivered a kick to the young woman's backside that sent both ladies tumbling out across the yard, over the koi pond and into the wall on the other side, somehow managing to plaster Ranma face first into the hard surface while their visitor's impact was softened by the former before both ladies tumbled to the ground in a heap, their visitor stumbling back and falling onto her butt while Ranma sprawled out on the ground between her legs and stared woozily up at the clouds above.

"Th-thank you," the woman stammered as she regained some semblance of understanding, "b-but wh-what was th-that just n-now?"

Meanwhile, three men sat on the deck as Akane stormed away in a huff, Happosai nearly in tears as the other two tried to decide whether to stare at their master in reverence, or their newest and most welcomed house guest in lechery.

"Ranma!" Happosai sniffled, his gratitude clear as day to all. "To think you'd cushion such a beauty from harm despite any suffering you might face… you truly are a boon to the Anything Goes School!" then, as the woman leaned backward in an attempt to see just who was speaking, Happosai's eyes went wider as he saw exactly what he wanted and yelled, "I'll never forget your kindness, boy!"

The woman's eyes went wide and a shriek burst forth as the little old man known as Happosai leaped into the air like a purple flea straight for the bosoms of the young dark-haired woman only for the clouds to open up at just that time and pour forth their contents, soaking the world and the three inhabitants of the yard in wet and especially _cold_ water.

Without even a sound — save for what some said _might_ be construed as a plea of gratitude to the gods and clouds in equal measure — the woman vanished just as she'd appeared, leaving Happosai to sail harmlessly through the space she'd just inhabited before landing square in Ranma's cleavage instead.

As Ranma squealed and shrieked in surprise, Happosai could be heard declaring, "Well, beggar's can't be choosers, I guess! Now, c'mere cutie! It's time you tried this baby on for size!" as he pulled from out of nowhere a lacy little bra and began trying to wrestle the now quite angered redhead into submission.

Back in China at Jusenkyo, the guide saw off the tour group who each felt as though they were either conned out of their cash by communists or that a meal or drink had at some point been laced with some sort of drug.

As the last tourist got onto the bus the guide gave one final wave and, as the bus began to pull away he called out, "Come back with friends when more springs open for tourists! Stay safe and have wonderful year!"

 **End**


End file.
